Chapter 85 - Caregiver

  I drifted into sleep, peaceful and safe, cocooned in the quiet comfort of knowing someone was looking out for me. Myrrh was out there, buying food and medicine, and that simple fact settled a warmth in my chest. Even in my feverish haze, it eased my mind enough to let me rest.

  The soft click of my door opening stirred me awake. Blinking groggily, I turned my head to see Myrrh stepping inside, the faint hallway light casting a soft glow around her. She balanced a large pizza box in one hand and a bulging grocery bag in the other, her greenish-blonde hair catching the light like a streak of fresh spring.

  “Pizza delivery...” Myrrh announced with a playful lilt, her cute silent voice cutting through the quiet as she set the pizza box down on my desk. The scent of melted cheese and spices drifted through the room, mingling with the cool, sterile smell of the medicine bottles she pulled from the grocery bag. Alongside them, she laid out bottled water and a few colorful sports drinks, their condensation glistening under the soft room light.

  I grabbed my phone and squinted at the screen. Two hours had passed since she left. I pushed myself up, my head swimming with the effort. “It’s been two hours, huh? I slept like a log and didn’t even realize you’d been out that long.” My voice was hoarse, each word dragging a little more energy from me.

  “Well…” Myrrh gave me a sheepish grin, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I had to beat up an old lady just to get that last discount pizza coupon.” She chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. Before I could respond, she knelt beside me, pressing a cold tablet into my palm and holding up two bottles for me to choose from. “Water, or sports drink?”

  “Water for now,” I croaked, popping the tablet into my mouth and washing it down with a long swig from the bottle. The coolness slid down my throat, soothing the rawness there, though the lingering dizziness made me sink back onto my pillows.

  Myrrh stood and stretched, glancing toward the kitchen. “May I borrow your rice cooker? I’ll make you some porridge.”

  “Sure.” I waved a weak hand in the air, my eyelids already drooping again. “I’ll just lay here and feel sorry for myself.”

  Myrrh scoffed adorably at my comment, her nose crinkling as she rolled her eyes. Without missing a beat, she turned back to the other side of the room, unpacking the ingredients she'd bought from the convenience store. To be honest, she’d taken a bit of a shortcut — the porridge came in a ready-to-cook pack — but she still added a personal touch, cracking an egg into the pot and tossing in some greens. The gentle simmer of the rice cooker filled the quiet, accompanied by the soft clinking of utensils as she stirred.

  I didn’t tell her, but sleep felt impossible now. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, making it rumble loud enough to be embarrassing. The rich, savory aroma of the porridge drifted through the room, curling into my nose and making my mouth water. I shifted under the blankets, watching her quietly from my bed, though she didn’t seem to notice.

  A few minutes later, Myrrh glanced over her shoulder to check on me. Our eyes met. She blinked, startled, then smiled shyly, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

  “It’s ready. I hope it suits your taste buds,” she said, carefully ladling the porridge into a bowl. The steam rose in soft tendrils, carrying the comforting scent of warm broth and fresh greens.

  I smirked, pushing myself up a little. “I just hope it’s edible.”

  Myrrh’s eyes narrowed. “Wow. Rude.” She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Even I can cook something this simple. This is, like, a basic skill.”

  “Sure,” I muttered, eyeing the porridge warily. “Basic skill. Says the girl who bought a ready-to-cook pack.”

  She huffed and shoved the bowl toward me, but I wasn’t about to complain anymore. Not when the warmth of the bowl seeped into my hands and the smell alone made my stomach growl again. Whatever shortcuts she took didn’t matter. I was starving.

  I took a cautious sip of the porridge at first, letting the warmth spread through me. To my surprise, it was delicious — the soft rice soaked up the rich broth, while the tender greens and silky egg added just the right balance of flavor and texture. Before I knew it, I was devouring the entire bowl, each spoonful disappearing faster than the last.

  Meanwhile, Myrrh had settled onto the chair by my desk, already chomping down on her first slice of cheesy, meaty pizza. The gooey mozzarella stretched between each bite, and the savory aroma of bacon and sausage mingled with the lingering scent of the porridge. I stared at her, still hungry.

  “See?” Myrrh laughed, noticing my empty bowl. “I told you I’m a delicious cook! You didn’t even have time to make a remark — you just inhaled it!”

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  “Yeah, yeah,” I groaned, leaning back against the pillows. “I commend you for it, Chef Myrrh Alicent.” I raised a hand, motioning toward the pizza box. “Now hand me some of those slices before I starve again.”

  Myrrh smirked but obliged, plucking a slice from the box and passing it over. The moment I took a bite, the flavors exploded in my mouth — crispy bacon, juicy sausage, and molten cheese, all sitting atop a perfectly golden crust. One slice wasn’t enough. I grabbed another. Then another. Before long, I was matching Myrrh’s pace, the two of us devouring the pizza as if it held the cure to my lingering dizziness.

  “Sammelplatz Pizza is the best, right?” Myrrh said dreamily, holding her half-eaten slice aloft like a sacred relic. “The cheese, the meat… It’s enough to give you energy and wash all your pain away, right? Right?”

  I shrugged, swallowing another bite. “It’s alright.”

  Myrrh gasped, clutching her chest as if I’d mortally wounded her. “You always say that! ‘It’s okay,’ ‘It’s fine,’ ‘It’s alright’… but deep down, you know Sammelplatz Pizza is a gift from the food gods!”

  I didn’t bother replying. The only sound was the soft crunch of the crust as I kept chewing, Myrrh’s dramatic declaration fading into the background.

  Honestly, Sammelplatz pizza was one of the most delicious pizzas I’d ever eaten. Every bite was a perfect storm of molten cheese and savory meats, balanced on a crust that managed to be both crispy and soft. It wasn’t even an acquired taste — it was instant gratification. Still, every time I watched the cheese stretch from my slice or saw the glistening sheen of oil on the bacon, I could almost feel my arteries protesting. But right now? I didn’t care. Hunger made the decision for me.

  As we ate, the quiet warmth between us settled in. The only sounds were the occasional crunch of crust and the soft hum of the rice cooker cooling down. Eventually, I broke the silence.

  “Are you sure it’s okay for you to be taking care of me?” I asked, glancing at Myrrh between bites. “Don’t you have plans today?”

  Myrrh shrugged, wiping her fingers with a napkin. “I’ve got none.” She leaned back in her chair, her greenish-blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she looked toward the window. “My mom’s undergoing therapy right now, so I won’t be able to visit her until the end of the Xyraxis New Year.” She sighed softly, the faintest hint of sadness crossing her face. “I’m pretty much free for the next few days. Besides…” She glanced at me, her eyes softening. “You needed help. There’s no way I’d leave you alone like this.”

  Her words hit me harder than I expected. I felt a warmth rise in my chest — and maybe a bit of color in my face — as I looked away. I never realized Myrrh cared that much. Maybe I should tone down the teasing… at least a little.

  By the time we finished eating, only three slices of pizza remained, sitting forlorn in the grease-stained box. Myrrh had even brought pudding from the grocery store, which we devoured in content silence.

  Afterward, she quietly tidied up, stacking empty bottles and tossing wrappers into the trash. I sank back into my bed, the soft hum of the heater lulling me into a state of lazy comfort.

  But boredom crept in quickly. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, I pulled out my phone and booted up a game. The familiar sound of gunfire crackled through the speakers, sharp and sudden against the quiet.

  Myrrh’s head snapped toward me. “Is that Battle Royale?” she asked, eyes lighting up with sudden interest. “What rank are you?”

  “Silver. Why?” I asked, eyes still on my screen as I reloaded behind cover.

  Myrrh let out a smug chuckle. “I’m already Platinum. I used to grind this game to relieve stress during midterms — y’know, back when I got partnered up with a mischievous headache of a hooligan.” She shot me a look, her lips curling into a playful smirk.

  I scoffed. “How the hell can you brag and insult me at the same time?”

  “It’s a talent. A basic skill.” She winked. “Hey, wanna squad up? I’ll finish cleaning up first, and then I can carry your sorry Silver ass to Gold.”

  I rolled my eyes, but a grin tugged at the corner of my lips. “Fine, fine. Let’s see if your arrogance holds water.”

  Once Myrrh tidied up the last of the dishes and tossed the pizza box into the trash, she plopped down at my desk and pulled out her phone. We queued up as a duo, the game’s loading screen glowing faintly in the dim room.

  The match started, and it became painfully clear that Myrrh wasn’t just boasting. She moved through the map with smooth precision, darting between cover and popping headshots like it was second nature. Meanwhile, I trailed behind her like a lost puppy, constantly getting ambushed or missing my shots. Every time I got knocked down, Myrrh swept in, guns blazing, clearing the enemies before crouching beside me to revive me for the third — or was it fourth? — time.

  By the time the match hit the final circle, Myrrh was a one-woman army. I barely got a shot in before she snagged the final kill, the words "Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!" flashing across the screen.

  “See?” Myrrh flicked her greenish-blonde hair over her shoulder with exaggerated sass. “Told you — this game is just a basic skill.”

  I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head in defeat. “Everything’s a ‘basic skill’ for you.”

  She grinned triumphantly, the soft glow of our phones reflecting in her eyes. As frustrating as it was to be carried so hard, I couldn’t help but feel a little grateful. Even if I was losing miserably, playing with Myrrh made things feel a bit warmer.

  Myrrh and I continued our gaming session for hours, our fingers growing sore from tapping the screens. After our fourth consecutive win, she let out a long, exaggerated sigh and flopped back in her chair.

  “This is so boring,” she groaned. “We’re winning too much. There’s no thrill anymore.”

  I chuckled, stretching my arms above my head. “Guess we really are compatible as partners — not just in Frame Unit combat, but in gaming too.”

  Myrrh blinked at me, then blushed slightly, her lips curling into a soft smile. She set her phone down on the desk and scooted closer, her warmth brushing against me.

  “Hey, Zaft…” she whispered.

  “What’s up?” I turned toward her, only to realize just how close she was. Her face was inches from mine, her greenish-blonde hair falling over her shoulder, the faint scent of her shampoo lingering in the air. My heart skipped a beat.

  She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching mine. Then, with a soft breath, she asked, “Do you want to have sex?”